


I am...we are

by angylinni



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angylinni/pseuds/angylinni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We have grown back together slowly, one step at a time.  It’s different now, without the constant threat of our lives hanging in the balance.  We laugh, we cry, we touch…we love.  For all that I thought I loved her before, what we have now is so much more.</p><p>Written for the thg_exchange on LJ.  Happy Holidays Mihnn!</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am...we are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiHnn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiHnn/gifts).



We have grown back together slowly, one step at a time.  It’s different now, without the constant threat of our lives hanging in the balance.  We laugh, we cry, we touch…we love.  For all that I thought I loved her before, what we have now is so much more.

~*~

Sharing the same bed, you get used to the other person’s movements and mannerisms.  Katniss snores lightly when she sleeps on her back, which isn’t often.  Most nights we’re so tangled up, it’s hard to see where I end and she begins.  Her hand lays atop my chest, curling gently against my skin, her breath warm as it moves over me.  Her hair tickles my bicep; I could move, but I don’t want to wake her.

I never dreamed this day would come, when I would wake up with her in my arms and know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she loves me as much as I do her.  For all the pain we’ve been through, both together and apart, this makes it all fade to just background noise.

I map the planes and angles of her body with my mouth and hands, memorizing each soft curve and jut of bone.  Some places make her moan my name as I skim over them, my hot breath skating across the patchwork quilt that is her skin, while others make her clutch the bed coverings in tight fists, her hips thrusting up against mine as I bring her to shuddering, gasping completion.

She knows me equally as well; what makes my breath hitch with need or smile against her soft skin, all while whispering words of love and passion as we climb the dizzying heights together.

It’s not only in bed that we’ve come to learn each other, but in our every day lives as well.  I bake, she hunts and together we tend the garden that sits beside our home.  We began living together shortly after my return, finding that the comfort of each other’s arms banished all but the most persistent of the terrors that plagued our dreams.  It feels right somehow, to say _our_ home.  We’ve built it together, each of us bringing something unique and precious to this sacred space that we’ve carved out and made our own.  Pieces of each of us fill it, my paintings on the walls, and her fur rugs over the back of the couch and on the floor before the fire.  Our clothes nestle side by side in the vast closet of the bedroom, toiletries neatly lined up in the bathroom, side by side.  Somehow, we’ve become adults, despite having been thrust into it far too soon.

The routines that we’ve established define our lives.  Not so much in a restrictive sense, but rather in a way that help us remember that we survived and continue to do so, one day at a time.  Knowing that Katniss likes a light breakfast before going hunting, I make sure to wake early and bake something she can easily carry with her.  She knows that my leg pains me in the evenings and we often sit before the fire as she rubs ointment into the stump, easing the pain of being on it.

There are still days when she cannot leave our bed, or I clutch the back of the chair to try and tether myself to the here and now when the shiny, hijacked memories try to take over.  Thankfully, they are few and far between and occurring less and less with each passing year.  There are things we don’t speak about, lest they destroy the peaceful cocoon we’ve enmeshed ourselves in.  The world has gone on without us, the Mockingjay and her Boy with the Bread stay well away from the glitz and pomp of the Capitol.  Every so often, something or someone tries to pull us back, but we gently close the door and unhook the phone until the message has been received.  We’ve given all we’re ever going to give, and the price we paid was more than enough.  Those are the times when our lovemaking grows more tender and sacred, as if reminding ourselves that we are two halves of a whole, made one by circumstance and choice.  I am hers and she is mine – anything else is unthinkable.

From the ashes of our pain came our greatest joy; a blue-eyed, dark-haired girl and a grey-eyed blond boy.  We know now the bittersweet joy that being a parent brings.  Thankfully, neither we nor they will ever know the pain that our own parents endured, watching as we were led to the town square every year like lambs to the slaughter, offered up as penance for the sins of our forefathers and the sadistic enjoyment of the Capitol.  President Snow once said that hope is the only thing stronger than fear and he was right.  It’s hope that makes us go on, enduring the pain and suffering because one day, it will end and we will revel in the joy and prosperity.  We have hope now for the future and beyond that, the price we paid was enough that our children and their children will never again be forced to pay for anyone’s sins.  They can grow up in a world that never lets children fight to the death for a jaded and corrupt government. 

We hold them close, these children of ours, sheltering them as best we can.  They will know the truth one day, when they are old enough to understand what came before. They will learn of the memory book and the stories behind the faces in it.  Prim, my father and brothers, Finnick and Rue.  The sacrifices made will never be forgotten, as long as the book exists. 

I am a baker, a father, a husband and a lover.  I double knot my shoelaces, I don’t like sugar in my tea and I sleep with the windows open.  I have seen both the ugly and the joy in life and I know that while they never balance each other out, the woman that stands by my side helps me to understand that I can endure despite that.

**Author's Note:**

> Effusive thank you's to my betas - MsDisdain, SalanderJade and Chelzie. Thank you ladies, for all your gracious help. All mistakes are my own.


End file.
